Booth's Sin
by gawilliams
Summary: Bones has a question for Booth.
1. Chapter 1

_It's been a few months, but I am back to writing once more. I had open heart surgery this past summer and am now, thankfully, well on my way to good health. God willing this will take care of the health problems that I have been having for a few years. This story is one that I have been thinking of for some time given how opposite Booth and Bones are on many public policy issues. Given this divisive nature of current politics here in the US, I thought this would be a fun short one to present. I hope hope you enjoy it. BTW, one side note. This is not a judgment on the subject of the vote, but rather a humorous little look at two people who would likely in 2016 have been on opposite sides of the Presidential debate. Gregg_

 _Disclaimer: I don't own, or profit from, these characters or franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

Booth knew he was going to cave sooner or later. It was almost a law of nature. He digs his heels in, and then Bones begins a slow, but steady, logical chipping away at his defenses. It was what came from having a genius for a wife who could deliver the verbal smack down to someone of the level of Stephen Hawking or, if he were alive, Einstein. Given that reality what possible chance did one Seeley Booth have? That's right. None. Zip. Zilch. Again, it was a freaking law of nature. And just what was it that he was going to cave on sooner or later? A single, tiny, minuscule question.

"Who did you vote for, Booth?"

Never mind the fact that there are secret ballots for a reason. Never mind the fact that it was his inalienable right to have an opinion that was his and his alone. Never mind the fact that, while he didn't have the wall of academic awards and degrees that his wife had, he was a thinking, responsible adult. Nope. Bones was on the warpath and he was the quivering heretic about to get torched.

"I asked a question, Booth."

Now that was a real shocker. Bones asking a question. Twelve years and many thousands of questions later and she acted as if she had to remind him she was asking a question. When was she not asking a question? Of course he would never, even under severe torture, let her know he was having such sarcastic thoughts. She'd turn around and make those sick foot sadists look like the Red Cross by comparison.

"Are you listening to me, Booth?"

What a loaded question that was. If he admitted that he was zoning in and out, he'd been begging for the foot sadists to pay a visit. If he denied it he'd been in serious shit anyway. Yep. He was doomed. There was only one thing he could do.

"What was the question again, Bones?"

"Who did you vote for, Booth?"

His shoulders slumped as he caved. He was so whipped. Thank God that Hodgins wasn't here to witness his humiliation. It was time to suck it up and take it like a man.

"Trump," he told her with a sigh.

"WHAT?" he heard Bones exclaim in a shrill tone of voice.

Yep. He was in Hell. Bones would never let him live this one down. He had a feeling that this was going to be a very, very long four years coming up starting on January 20, 2017. He wondered if he could just turn over the voting to Bones and let her worry about who would lead the country. For now he mentally prepared to become much better friends with the couch. It was a sin of the first order, after all, to do the opposite of Bones when she felt strongly about something. He just knew that his epitaph was going to read Seeley Booth: Sinner.

 _A/N: Way too short, I know, but it had the right feel and tone, so I decided that this would accomplish what I was hoping. I hope you enjoyed it. Gregg_


	2. Chapter 2

_I'm glad you enjoyed the first chapter to this one. I am enjoying thinking up various scenarios to extend this one, and here is small result the result of one pondering session. I hope you enjoy it. Gregg._

 _Disclaimer: I don't own, or profit from, these characters or franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

Booth was in a happy mood. Everything was in order to have a nice night of absolute sexual abandon with Bones. And the best part? Trump was in Europe, so there was no way that anything would happen from that home wrecker of a President. He'd been dreaming of what would be the order of the day once Trump headed out to meet the rest of the NATO leaders. The most important element, though, was no sleeping on the couch. How could a US President screw up meeting with allies and reaffirming the mutual defense pact? It was easy as pie! Just go in, say that Article 5 of the NATO agreement was the best thing since sliced bread and it was a done deal! No one could screw that one up. And the result? Junior and the Boys would have a night to remember offering up the performance of a lifetime, and his back would be singing his praises since there would be no couch duty in sight!

As Booth was driving home, though, he began to get nervous. Trump did have an unerring tendency to screw up even the easiest of tasks, bringing shame to the dignity of the office and the country. And how he talked about the FBI! Yes, he was offended by it, but Bones seemed to be a one woman wrecking machine when the man spoke ill of her stud muffin's organization. She hated all of the belittling of institutions when Trump got hold of his cell phone and began tweeting, but especially of the FBI. It was extra couch duty on those days for good old Seeley Boy. How could he have been such an idiot and vote for the nut job? Even Mitch was looking at him like he'd kicked some kids puppy! All he did was vote! Yes, he'd been ass backwards on his pick, and Bones was meting out some serious punishment, but Mitch should have been doing cartwheels that his favorite pervert had voted for a guy who would sign off on anti-abortion legislation. But no. Trump had been an equal opportunity offender, and the man's sexual mores had been a total apocalyptic pooch screw in the eyes of Mitch. At least Mitch didn't say that Booth's morals on the sexual front were as bad as Trumps'! If that was so, though, why did he keep getting called a perverted freak and maintainer of a complete den of iniquity every time he went to confession? Those should be the labels that Trump deserved, not the Catholic Poster Boy!

Booth arrived home, thankful that nothing calamitous had happened in Europe that he'd heard of, so if all was in sync, then the festivities would be beginning soon. Hodgins and Angela had Christine and Hank for the night, Thank God!, so it would be Bones, him, and Junior enjoying some quality bedroom time! Or perhaps a little room christening throughout the house would be in order. Yep, Bones' Boothy Boy was ready for some serious sinning tonight! Grabbing the massive amount of daisies that formed the large bouquet that he had for her to set the evening off on the right foot he got out of the SUV and made his way to the door with his best _**I AM Getting Some Tonight**_ smile on his face. His smile faltered, though, when he got to the door and heard a loud crash and a heated curse, followed by "That demented FOOL!" shouted out loudly.

Booth groaned. He knew what that meant! What the HELL had happened? Bones only got like that when Trump fucked up by the numbers! The man was in Europe to say all was well with NATO! How the fuck can someone screw that up! His back was now screaming at him once more for voting for Trump. Junior was slowly crawling back up inside, joining the Boys in hiding. He looked at the bouquet and saw that it was even beginning to tilt and wilt right there! He tossed the bouquet into the bushes, knowing that if he turned up with flowers when she was pissed like this she would only accuse him of being a stereotypical Alpha Male Neanderthal wanting to curry favor with his mate. Best to avoid that load of BS since he'd never learned how to defend against all that anthropological hooey. Taking a deep breath, Booth opened the door and stepped into the Lion's Den.

 _A/N: A short bridging chapter to get ready to continue this one. All comments about President Trump are within the context of the storyline, and not a definitive statement of political views. I hope you all enjoy this short chapter. Gregg_


	3. Chapter 3

_Thank you for the great responses to the last chapter. It's a lot of fun working on this story. I am now shooting a couple of years ahead in the storyline and seeing what would happen when Mueller sent his report to the Attorney General. I was curious about that after I wrote the second chapter. I hope you enjoy this one. Gregg._

 _Disclaimer: I don't own, or profit from, these characters or franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

Two years. Two years of all this bullshit having to spend God alone knew how many nights on the couch because of that colossal home wrecker of a President. Booth was still not sure how his brilliant genius of a wife was able to convince herself that it was all her FBI stud muffin's fault that the nut bar had been elected in the first place (though to be fair he had voted for the piece of work), but she had and he'd been on punishment detail ever since. Oh, there had been some reprieves now and again, and when that had happened you can be damn sure that Junior and the Boys had made absolutely certain to reacquaint themselves with the Promised Land, and give Bones something to think on the next time she decided it was time for her Boothy Boy to have some couch duty.

Today, though, he had to be careful. Mueller, who he admired and thought was a great guy, had handed in the report of his investigations to the Attorney General. Ordinarily he would gloat that his pick two years before had been vindicated as it said that while the nut job wasn't exonerated, he also wasn't being charged with anything. But that created a quandary. Bones would glom onto that and recognize that said nut bar would immediately gloat and strut that he was free and clear. Even if that was a bald faced lie, he would say it. Bones would rail against that kind of dishonesty in a flash, and also rail against Mueller for being such a pansy as to not charge the nut with everything under the sun. If Booth came in strutting and gloating he would be on couch duty for the rest of eternity and Junior and the Boys could be hacked off for all the good they would do him.

He went over his mental checklist as he pulled into the driveway of their home. Deodorant on? Check. Clean clothes and undies? Check. Protective cup in place? Double check on that as he needed to be damn careful in case Bones wanted to inflict some bodily harm. No flowers? Check. No bribery material in sight as Bones would fly into some anthropological rage if he was dumb enough to try any of that stuff. New air mattress for the couch? Check. If he did wind up back on couch duty he was damn well prepared to protect his sensitive spinal column. Hand written letter to Bones from Parker? Check. Bones was a sucker for anything from his Little Man. She had that piece of artwork the Boy did from way back when, didn't she? So. All in readiness? Damn straight! Oops! He reached in the glove box and pulled out some mouth wash, judiciously gargling with the stuff. Can't be too careful, after all.

Walking up to the front door he listened carefully. He didn't hear anything crashing to the floor, or any cursing and shouting, so all seemed well. Thank God! Maybe she was digesting the fact that Mueller had done a good job and there simply wasn't enough there to press on any further. No. That was too easy. She could digest, comprehend, and rebut in a damn nanosecond whereas anyone else would be flailing in the intellectual wind for a week or more. Perhaps she accepted that the Nut wasn't such a bad guy after all? No way! If she had her way her sniper trained stud muffin would be ready for orders to take out the nut job with extreme prejudice. As if he would ever take out the sitting President! No way was he going down for something like that! No, Sir! Not even for Bones! Maybe she was seeking out some spiritual strength and paying a visit to Mitch? When Satan was being fitted for snow shoes! Otherwise he would have already gotten a call from the Papal Nuncio passing on the horrifying news that he was being excommunicated! He made a mental note to stop in at confession the next morning and confess to a few goodies that hadn't even happened in order to pad the books in the Lord's accounting office.

Before he had a chance to ponder anymore possibilities the door swung open all of a sudden revealing a rather angry looking Bones. Booth gulped. This didn't look good. He decided to play it cool.

"Hey, Bones!" he said as he walked in and carefully gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Anything happen today?"

"Your President spent this morning lying about Mueller's report," she replied, giving him a withering look.

He noticed that she was once again referring to Trump as "YOUR President". He shook his head. She seemed to be forgetting that she was a US citizen, too, and the nut bar was also her President. But he decided to let it go. It wasn't worth guaranteeing his having couch duty. At least if he ignored it he would have a chance at sleeping in bed curled up to Bones that night.

"He also announced that the US was going to recognize Israel's claim to the Golan Heights," she informed him.

Booth groaned. He hadn't heard that one yet. He supported Israel, but there was a difference between supporting a country in general, and slavishly supporting anything they do even if it is of highly questionable legality. Trump, obviously, hadn't received the memo on that concept. The issues surrounding Jerusalem, the West Bank, Gaza, and the Golan Heights were vastly more complicated than Trump made them out to be, regardless of what side of the issues you were on.

"Couch duty tonight?" he said morosely.

Bones had a devilish twinkling in her eyes. "Not tonight," she told him.

Booth was stunned, and almost pinched himself to see if he was dreaming. "Huh?" he said.

"Do the words 'Hi Yo Silver!' mean anything to you?" she asked innocently.

Booth could feel Junior and the Boys shriveling. Pony Play role playing! He made a silent vow that if Trump ever did anything that would bring down the wrath of the Law on him, such as shooting someone without just cause, then he would be first on the scene and taking care of business with some seriously extreme prejudice. All within the realm of his job as a law enforcement officer, of course, but the Nut Bar would find out what all his BS was resulting in. He only hoped to God that she hadn't heard any of the rumors he'd been hearing that day that the government was going to change it's litigation posture on the Affordable Care Act and ask that the courts invalidate the whole thing. He could kiss ever seeing his bed again goodbye if she had and he hadn't fessed up about it beforehand!

"Uh, Bones?" he asked as he followed her deeper into the house. "Can we discuss this?"

 _A/N: I know that this is somewhat out of character and also a bit unfair to Booth, but I am enjoying the humor of it. I am working on a chapter that will see Booth redeem himself which will be either the next chapter or the one after that. I hope you enjoyed this one. Gregg._


End file.
